


The Magic of Water

by dani_dabbles



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Flirty Magnus Bane, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, Landlord Magnus Bane, M/M, Magnus Bane could be that nice thing, Malec AU, Nature Magic, Protective Magnus Bane, Short One Shot, from a prompt generator, grieving Alec Lightwood, malec one shot, no beta - we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dani_dabbles/pseuds/dani_dabbles
Summary: "If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water." — Loren Eiseley
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 18
Kudos: 82





	The Magic of Water

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic came from a prompt generator. I’ve lazily plucked away at it until tonight when I decided I had to have it out of my drafts. So the last little bit was written with more haste than the rest. (I hope that’s not too obvious 🥴). I put the prompts I got in the end notes if you’re curious. As always, my work is not beta read. 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @dani_dabbles and you can use the hashtag #danidabbles if you feel inclined to talk about any of my fics there ☺️

Alec hates water. No. He loathes it.

Currently, he loathes how it makes his jeans and tee-shirt weigh down on his already exhausted frame. He loathes how it mingles with the perspiration trailing down from his temples, making him hyper-aware of the fact he smells like gym socks and sewage. And he especially loathes how it sloshes around in his shoes as he takes sluggish, labored steps up the stairwell of his apartment building. The squelching sound of the wet rubber soles on the cold metal steps are accompanied only by the slight pant of his breath. 

He is so tired. 

With one last gushing step onto the sixth-floor landing, Alec allows himself a single moment to collect himself. The whole walk home, he felt on edge, strung out yet endlessly weary. It’s the price he pays after a night like tonight. He exhaustively leans back against the wall, head tilted up and eyes closed. As is his ritual before opening the door to the hall, he concentrates on mentally realigning himself, commanding his body and mind to quiet and settle. He wills himself to mimic the barren stairwell he stands in - silent, still and empty. The humming, excited energy under his skin seems intent on staying. With a frustrated groan, Alec pushes against it, sweeping it away in favor of a silent mental abyss. His apartment, his home, is a sanctuary from the complicated, tormented person he has been the last few hours. 

Because there are two Alec Lightwoods in the world. The one standing in this stairwell shouldn’t soil the life of the Alec who lives in the apartment down the hall. That Alec is a quiet young man who works his ordinary nine to five job, has a penchant for black coffee, and enjoys going on early morning runs. It’s the version of himself the world sees, the version he desperately wishes he could go back to being. The Alec his neighbors know smiles at strangers and helps Mr. Fredrickson with his groceries. He’s the complete foil to the Alec currently dripping water on the floor of the stairwell landing. The Alec who climbed these stairs chews on his bottom lip and relishes the sting. He’s jaded and miserable and overwhelmed with grief. This Alec functions on revenge, hate, and self-loathing. He allows himself to yield to the whisperings in his ear, to be fueled by an energy that could easily be all-consuming. So, Alec does his best to hide this version of himself, so he can carry on functioning like a normal person in the normal, mundane world. 

With eyes clenched shut and several meditative breaths, Alec reins himself in finally feeling more stable and in control. With a long sigh, Alec straightens himself up, throws open the door, and proceeds down the hallway to his apartment. He shoves a hand into his front pocket, praying his keys are still there and not at the bottom of the East River. To his relief, his fingers wrap around the metal, and with shaky hands, he unlocks his door and fumbles into his apartment.

He flicks on the light, shrugging out of this jacket allowing it to drop off his shoulders, hitting the floor with a splat. He wants a scalding hot shower, the comfort of his bed and to fall into blissful unconsciousness.

Alec shuffles toward his living room, running fingers through his hair, wringing water from it. His fingers catch on a small leaf and he pulls it from his tangles with disgust. God only knows what else was in the river, he’ll be lucky if he doesn-

“Gahhh! What the hell?!” 

Alec stumbles back a few steps, a hand clamps against his chest barely holding his heart back from escaping the safety of his ribcage. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

The man sitting in Alec’s armchair, only lifts a brow, “Where have you been?”

Alec scowls, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Aren’t fans waiting to fawn over you and ask for photos, interviews to give, and old ladies to help cross the street or something? Get the hell out of my apartment.”

The man unfolds himself from the chair, standing up in a single lythe motion. He stares Alec down with a completely unamused look, “Where have you been, Alexander?”

Through gritted teeth Alec commands, “Leave me alone, Magnus.”

“I can’t.”

“Actually, you can.” Alec strides back to the door, pulls it open, and points to the hallway, “Get. Out.”

Magnus doesn’t move from his spot in the middle of Alec’s living room, “You should be more cordial to your landlord, Alexander. You’re renting this place at a rate so cheap it's practically robbery.”

Alec glares at him, trying to hold his formidable stare, “Then why did you bother to buy the entire goddamn building? Maybe you should buy another complex and go torment those tenants...and leave me the fuck alone.”

Magnus fixes him with another cocked brow, completely unperturbed. Nothing ruffles the man, something Alec discovered early on after meeting the infamous Magnus Bane. Still, Alec is stubborn. He’ll continue to push until he finds the right button to set him off. For now, he quietly seethes as Magnus talks, “We both know I can’t do that, Alexander. I have become quite fond of the residents here. I care for their wellbeing. I want to look out for them. What sort of...landlord...would I be if I up and left them? Who would protect them...this city is filled with slumlords who would take advantage of their good nature.”

“Well, in that case, Miss White’s water heater is acting up. You should go see her about that.” Alec holds the door open wider. 

“Ah. Good to know. Thank you for that tidbit of information, Alexander. I’ll check in with her in the morning. Knocking on her door right now at” he looks down to consult his flashy wristwatch, “3am would be a bit rude, don’t you think? Besides, there is another tenant I’m much more interested in helping right now.”

“We’ve been over this. I don’t need your _help_ , Magnus. Please. Just...go.” Alec can’t hide the fatigue any longer. It's taking the last of his energy not to slump against the door and to remain upright and stern. They’ve been here a thousand times in the past 18 months. Magnus seeks Alec out, wanting to help him, wanting to introduce him to his little group of eccentric friends, to make Alec feel like he _belongs_ , that he’s not broken. 

Over and over again, they have this argument. And they’ll keep having it until Magnus gets it through his perfectly styled hair and into his thick skull that Alec doesn’t want to belong, that being broken is all Alec knows how to be. Because being anything else feels like sacrilege, like a penance unpaid. 

But every time Magnus approaches him, it’s like being tempted by the devil himself. That is if the devil had a predilection for haute couture fashion, glittery nail polish, and martinis. Alec can’t deny that Magnus is the most enticing person he has ever encountered. Since meeting him, Alec hasn’t seen a version of Magnus that he isn’t tempted to worship. And while Magnus’ beauty is unparalleled in Alec’s opinion, it is the sheer weight of care and kindness in the man’s eyes that really does him in. If Magnus only knew how many times Alec fell to his knees choking back sobs after his departure. Knowing someone in the world finds worth in him, something he gave up seeing for himself, is overwhelming. Not to mention, there is an acute familiarity in Magnus that calls out to Alec. One that all but begs Alec to drop the hold on his flimsy control. With Magnus, Alec has begun to understand that he could reveal himself to be the angry, raw, and ugly person he believes himself to be, and he would still only find understanding and support from the man in his apartment. Alec wasn’t sure he could withstand that vulnerability. He’s fortified by negative emotions, it's the only thing that keeps everything manageable. So, he continues to push the limits of his resolve, clinging to his vendetta. 

It takes more strength than he can ever admit and he’s so goddamn tired. 

Magnus watches him for a moment and Alec knows he is cataloging every detail of his fragile facade. “Fine. I’ll go.” Alec slumps minutely in relief, but Magnus isn’t done, “But only after you take care of yourself. I won’t leave knowing you could easily succumb to hypothermia soaked to the bone like you are.”

Alec wrinkles his nose, “Don’t be dramatic. It’s not that bad. And for your information, I was going to go straight to the bathroom for a hot shower but someone decided to break into my apartment and derailed that plan.”

Alec doesn’t miss the heated glint in Magnus’ eyes, “Oh darling, as much as I would love to help you into a nice hot bath, I was thinking there was a much better remedy to your current state.”

At the suggestion, the hum under his skin starts anew, back from the void, and on high alert. It's the source of all of Alec’s problems. Not to mention, the reason Alec smells like the filth of the river. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alec says, chin raised in defiance. It’s a pathetic attempt at a lie and they both know it. But it's expected, as yet another part of their continued back and forth.

Magnus falls back down into the chair and begins to casually inspect his nails, “I heard there was a terrible accident on the Brooklyn Bridge tonight, one car went over the edge with the force of impact.” He chances a glance at Alec who’s standing rigid, knuckles white from how hard he grips the door handle. “An associate of mine rushed to the scene to help, but upon their arrival all of the car’s occupants were passed out on the bank, inexplicably alive. They said those passengers were the luckiest people in New York City tonight; they should have drowned after such a fall. First responders are calling it a miracle.”

Alec clenches his jaw but says nothing when Magnus flicks his eyes back up at him, “Then there was that nasty business last week with the Staten Island Ferry. Crash survivors are still trying to find the mysterious person who pulled them out of the sinking vessel. Twitter conspiracy theorists are claiming there are mermaids in the bay’s waters. Then, there was that tropical storm that hit earlier this summer. Two days of torrential rains and flash flooding, but also odd reports of water mysteriously rushing back out of businesses and homes even though it continued to rise in other places. Oh! And last winter ther-”

“Stop. _Just stop_.” Alec forces all the authority he can muster into his voice, but even he can hear the underlying plea.

If Alec wasn’t already paralyzed by anxiety, the sharpness in Magnus’ glare would have pinned him in place, “Then dry yourself off, Alexander.”

Tears are forming at the corner of Alec’s eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. Instead, he allows the heat of his anger to dry them up. He lashes out, slamming the door closed.

“No. I won’t. I refuse to let it be a convenience to me or be something I should be grateful for. If it wanted my gratitude then _it would have saved them_ . Or at least it could have had the fucking decency to let me die too!” Alec’s voice had risen until his words rang out in his small apartment. His stomach rolls and there’s a prickling pain under his skin, an agitating presence making itself known and fighting to object to his accusations. Alec struggles to hold it back, like grasping at a leash attached to a wild animal. He was maintaining control, but only barely. “But no, I get to live, to suffer through the pain of their absence every day, every hour. I wake up every morning and have to make the conscientious decision to endure it. And every night I go to bed wondering if the next day is the morning I decide I can’t anymore. So, until that morning comes, I’m going to make sure as few people as possible have to live a similar existence. And since _this_ ” Alec makes a sweeping gesture at his body, “refuses to leave, it can atone for itself by saving other people since it didn’t save them.”

Magnus sits stoically through Alec’s outburst. When he speaks it's low, yet firm, “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe it didn’t intentionally choose you over them? That maybe you aren’t the only one feeling the failure of that night? That it stayed with you because it feels a sense of duty by you? That it wants to make it up to you? That it’s seeking forgiveness? Do you even understand the implications of any of this? Seven billion people in this world, Alexander, and it answered your call for help. It chose you. It stays with you despite your blatant hate for it.”

No longer able to hold it back, Alec talks through the tears, “I didn’t ask for this. It wasn’t my life I was asking the universe to save. I would happily be at the bottom of that river if only they’d gotten to walk away. I refuse to be grateful because that implies a modicum of understanding. And I don’t understand, Magnus. Why? Why me? Please. Make me understand.” Standing in his living room, hands painfully clenched at his side, and tear tracks on his flushed cheeks, Alec finally vocalizes the question that has plagued his dreams as well as most of his waking hours.

It's the first time Magnus looks anything less than confident, “It’s the same question we all struggle with Alec. We...we don’t truly know. Simon thinks it’s manifested from the purity of heart and worthiness. Clary speaks about the blessings of angels. Jace feels it's the universe offering recompense for the trauma each of has all endured in some form.”

With tentative steps, Alec succumbs to his exhaustion and finds a seat on the couch. He positions himself to better face Magnus and rubs at his eyes and nose before asking warily, “What about you?”

Magnus lets out a hefty sigh and slumps further into the chair, examining his nails again, “The history of humankind is filled with stories and folklore of gods, spirits, elementals, and devas. And I’ve always liked to think they are true; that our world is composed and inhabited by unseen forces watching out for the world we live in.” He gives Alec a side-eye, “But what if being unseen isn’t always beneficial? What if the spirits could better serve the earth with a flesh and blood vessel? What if they happen upon a human who they feel is a kindred soul? What sort of things could they accomplish together when humans act as conduits for the spirits of nature?”

Alec chews at his bottom lip trying to digest this and open his mind up to the possibility of realigning his whole perspective with the questions Magnus has posed. There is a sense of awe in the idea that he might have been _chosen_ or _worthy_. But he’s not sure it can ever justify the losses he’s incurred. He wants to argue with Magnus and hold onto his anger. Magnus must see it written in his features and the tension of his shoulders, he gently suggests, “How about we continue this conversation in the morning. You need rest, darling. But first, you need to dry off, those soggy clothes cannot be comfortable.” He gives Alec another expectant look but this time it’s softened by genuine concern. 

Alec closes his eyes and swallows back the insensible emotions threatening to choke him. This is not new to him, he’s done it a hundred times, maybe even a thousand by now. But doing it in front of Magnus, in front of anyone, is a level of exposure he hasn’t yet braved. His twisted logic says once it's witnessed by another, he can no longer delude himself into believing the last year and a half has been some warped dream or alternate reality. 

With more effort than he’d like to admit, he heaves himself up from the couch. The dull hum morphs into reluctantly familiar energy which laps along his nerves and buzzes with anticipation, ready to be called into action. Alec makes a sweeping gesture down the front of his wet shirt as if to fling the water off. 

Which it does. 

Thousands of shimmery droplets pull from his clothing, gathering above the palm of Alec’s hand, to create a bubble of filthy East River water. Standing in his now dry clothing, Alec avoids looking at Magnus when he speaks. Instead, he watches the water rotate and swirl with the movements of his wrist, “You can’t ask me to be okay with this. Because I can’t promise to stop resenting it. The hurt, it’s- it’s too deep to let go.” He bites at his lip before admitting, “For months I was plagued by survivor’s guilt. I still am. But then I became more consumed by the idea that I was an even more horrible person because I was ignoring the good I could be doing.” 

A breathy laugh escapes through Alec’s crooked smile, “The memory of a lecture from my parents about “wasted potential” kept infiltrating my thoughts. And I couldn’t stop imagining the new lecture they would be giving me if they were here. This…” he tossed the watery orb between his hands “would hardly have fazed my mom. Instead of allowing me to wallow in pity, she’d be pestering and prodding me into action. Telling me to set an example for my siblings. And God, my brother, and sister would have been insufferable about it. I wouldn't ever have a moment of rest from their requests for demonstrations or being pressed into unruly antics.” 

Alec's smile loses its luster but doesn’t disappear as he whispers more to himself than to Magnus, “I miss them.”

Rustling pulls Alec back to reality and away from the remembered faces of his family. Magnus stands before him watching Alec manipulate the mass of muddy water he welds in his hands, “I don’t wa - no, I can’t disappoint them. If there is any chance they are watching over me, I can’t give them a reason to hate or resent me for being alive. So, if I have to endure this to save someone else’s life, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s the only thing I can offer to their memory.”

He glances at Magnus, who gives him a solemn nod of understanding, “Trust me, Alexander, that’s what each of us is determined to do. You’ll find we’re all a bit broken, darling.” 

They stand in silence as Alec’s wills rivulets of water to trail along his fingers, twist around his wrist, and dance up his arms. He can’t ignore the pleased and delighted feeling coursing through him as he moves the droplets according to his whims. “It’s like having a sibling, you know? A constant nuisance that demands all of your attention, that takes things from you, that pesters you, that drills at every nerve you have until you snap. But even then, it refuses to leave your side.” He’s hesitant as he asks Magnus, “Is that what it feels like to you, too?”

“Hm. Well, I’ve never had any siblings so I really couldn’t say. But for me, it’s more gentle, maybe even a bit soft. I feel like I’m in the company of an old, wise soul. It’s content to nudge and guide me along, never demanding or harsh. A quiet strength mostly. It’s unnervingly like my mother was in some ways.” Magnus looks a little lost in memories but quickly catches himself, blushing slightly. Alec finds himself smiling in return. Collecting himself, Magnus quickly slips back into his signature persona, “So, Alexander, will you finally accept my invitation for dinner to meet everyone else?”

Alarms go off in his head, his own voice shouting at him to run, to maintain his isolation from others like him. But for once, Alec consults the other part within, the one that commands the water, the one that saved his life. And even without words, it manages to convey a resounding yes. The sense of rightness has Alec dipping his head in a nod, “Okay. Yes. I’ll come.” 

The smiles he’s rewarded with makes Alec want to say yes to everything Magnus should ever ask of him.

But after his brief moment of awe, the glee in Magnus’ brown eyes causes Alec to frown, “That doesn’t mean I want to be the newest member of your little band of superheroes.”

Magnus barks out a laugh, “Oh, but darling, you’d look great in spandex. You have the ass for it, I assure you.”

Alec gives him a deadpanned look before abruptly lobbing the water directly at his landlord’s face. However, Magnus is quicker, throwing up a hand encased in scorching blue flames that evaporates the watery missile with a hiss before it can touch him.

They blink at each other for about five uneasy beats, then for the first time in months, Alec Lightwood is laughing. His sides ache with the unfamiliarity of it, but it feels so good.

Still giggling, Magnus reaches for Alec’s arm to steer him toward the small kitchen, “Come on Merman, let’s get you some food and then off to bed for you. I know from experience saving lives is an exhausting business.”

Alec comes to a halt, “Oh, hell no. I am not _Merman_.”

With a mocking pat on his shoulder, Magnus only offers, “Tell that to Twitter, darling.”

  
  
  
  


_18 months earlier…_

**Author's Note:**

> The image after “18 months earlier” isn’t always displaying correctly. But it’s a news story showing a road collapsed and washed away by flood waters with the headline about a family perishing in the flood with only one survivor.
> 
> Prompts:  
> Character A - Mermaid/Merman  
> Character B - Superhero  
> Setting - Magical Realism  
> Item important to Story - Apartment
> 
> As you can see, I bent these prompts a bit to make it work, lol.


End file.
